Witch Fall(79)
Doranna took a plate, but Jolin barely looked up from where she stood over a small, bubbling cauldron. Sweat ran down her temples and dampened her hair. She’d long ago abandoned her dresses for a tunic and trousers that looked suspiciously like the ones from Harshen.
Lilette took her first bite, wishing she could have somehow brought her eunuch with her. He would have shown the wastrels how to make a brown sauce to sauté fish with some vegetables, served over rice. Creators’ mercy, Lilette missed rice.
She wiped a trickle of sweat from her forehead. “Jolin, lunch.”
Her friend pulled a small rock out of the cauldron and dropped it into a crate full of rocks. “This time. I can feel it.”
Rocks in potions? “Uh, what are you doing?”
Jolin smoothed a few stray strands of her hair. “I’m soaking raw steel in a compound to see if it affects the strength of the steel.”
“She’s going to send them to the blacksmith’s to see if she can make an unbreakable sword,” Doranna added.
Jolin shot a glare at the wastrel. “If I can manage to line up the particles of steel, it will strengthen the end product.”
“And boiling rocks in a potion will help?” Lilette asked incredulously.
Now it was her turn to receive a glare. “That’s what I’m trying to determine.” Jolin dropped more rocks into the cauldron with a plunk. “Now clamp it. I’m working.”
After making a face, Lilette took another bite of her lunch. Doranna smothered a laugh, and Lilette gaped at her. It was the first time she’d ever heard Doranna laugh—or seen her smile, for that matter. “Doranna, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
Lilette tapped the bread. “Why did you decide to become a wastrel?”
Doranna’s smile became as brittle as glass. “You know, for someone on the fast track to becoming one of the discipline heads, you’re blatantly ignorant.”
Shame tore through Lilette. “I . . . just . . . there are wastrels everywhere. I don’t understand why they would choose a life of servitude.”
Doranna’s mask of indifference slipped, darkening to something like hate. “You’re lucky to be accepted as one of them, witchling.” She stormed from the room, slamming the door shut after her.
Jolin stared after her. “You shouldn’t have said that.”
“What did I say wrong?”
“Wastrels aren’t like eunuchs, Lilette. They didn’t choose this.”
Lilette gasped. “Surely they weren’t forced?”
“No.” Jolin dropped her tongs with a clatter and came over to sit at the table. She took a bite of her fish and started chewing. “Of all witch born, only a fourth are admitted as witchlings. Two-thirds of those never reach their apprenticeship.”
“What happens to them all?” Lilette asked.
Jolin drained her cup of water and refilled it. “Depending on their skill, witchlings can become apothecaries, minor healers, herbalists. Apprentices—like me—can become master physickers, teachers, or researchers. Only those who graduate to full keepers sing the songs that rule the world.”
Jolin’s gaze went distant and she shook her head sadly. “Women like Doranna, who were never admitted at all, become wastrels because it gives them a chance to be a part of something. She and my mother have been fast friends since they were children. And my mother pays Doranna better than anyone else would.”
For a chance to be a part of this, Lilette would have made the same bargain. “And those who choose not to join the wastrels?”
Jolin’s expression tightened. “Become simply women, having babies and being wives.” Her nostrils flared. “It is not an easy path.”
Anger growled in Lilette’s chest. All her life, she’d watched men measure out a woman’s rights, taking what they wanted and giving far less. She would never willingly choose to be beholden to anyone. “Why would the keepers be so cruel? Everyone deserves a chance to prove herself.”
Jolin scraped the last of her fish in her mouth and pushed herself back from the table. “That’s exactly what Doranna and the others prove every single day.”
***
Doranna didn’t come back until the next day. Lilette stepped gingerly into the tree with the lunch tray and set it down. She, Jolin, and Doranna ate in smothering silence until Lilette couldn’t stand it anymore. “Doranna, I’m sorry. This” —she gestured to everything around her— “is all still very foreign to me.”
Doranna didn’t respond.
Lilette sighed. “If what you say is true, if someone really has put me on a fast track to becoming a discipline head, I promise to try to change things.”